I came awake to an unsettling combination of nausea and hunger. Nothing felt right, smelled right, sounded right. My head swam in a way that made me feel disconnected from the world. I struggled to sit up, to focus, but the minute I tried moving, pain arrowed through my side and completely took my breath. A whimpering sound came out of my nose and my eyes stung. What had happened to me? Where was I? I flinched as the memory of rough hands and lowered voices assailed me. I tried to jerk away from what felt all too real but the pain in my ribs protested so strongly that I couldn’t stifle my cry.

“Shh, it’s okay,” said a strange male voice. There was movement in the room, which should have scared me even worse, but for some reason the voice did the opposite. It calmed me just enough to help me catch a breath.

Trust me…

I remembered those words, those two little words that carried so much weight behind them. They’d been spoken with an equal mix of demand and plea. He’d spoken them. I was almost sure of it. So maybe it wasn’t such a strange voice after all.

“W-who are you? Where… where am I?” I stammered. That was the best I could do against the pain still burning up my side.

The man’s face came into focus. It was both handsome as hell and full of concern. He towered over me and even in my confused state, I could see the uncertainty in his eyes… like he didn’t know what to do next.

Him and me both.

“I, uh, found you wandering around last night in pain. You made me promise not to take you to the hospital, so… so I brought you here.” His hesitation made me think there was more to it than that but my brain was too muddled to make sense of things. I tried sitting up, but gasped at the pain.

The man was suddenly there, leaning across me to arrange the pillows behind me then helping me move slowly and carefully to a sitting position. I noticed the muscles pushing against the long sleeves of his shirt. “You need to let someone take a look at you. I can take you back to the hospital—”

My heart rate took off. “No. I have to go.” I tried getting off the bed again, but the pain shot through my side the same way it had before. “Oh god.”

Sweat broke out on my skin, and my head spun. I tried to push past it because I needed to keep moving. “What day is it?” I managed to ask as I tried to swing my legs off the bed. How long had I been in the hospital? Hours? Days? Why was my mind so fuzzy?

“It’s Thursday,” the man said as he grabbed my arm to keep me from moving any further.

Thursday.

I stilled as I tried to piece together what that meant exactly. But my mind refused to cooperate and the harder I tried to focus on any one thing, the more my head spun. My stomach flip-flopped and for a moment I feared I’d be sick all over the man in front of me.

“Shit, stop. Stop trying to leave,” the man said, his voice deep and gruff. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe here, I promise. Sit still for a minute and relax. Here, have a sip of water.” If I hadn’t been so sick to my stomach, I would have smiled at how off the guy sounded—he clearly wasn’t used to playing nursemaid. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a bottle of water, cracking it open and handing it to me. I took it gingerly and tried not to spill it down my chest as I took a few sips.

Relax.

As if that was ever going to happen as long as Georgie was missing. I felt tears smarting almost instantly. Was she even at this very moment calling for me? Had her abductors hurt her? They’d said they wouldn’t as long as they got what they wanted but then things had gone to hell and I didn’t know what I was going to do next. What if… what if they’d gotten tired of waiting? What if they’d…?

I shook my head because I refused to even give thought to such a thing. Georgie was alive, and I would get her back. I would.

I startled when I felt a soft touch on my face.

My damp face.

Jesus, when had I started crying? And why in god’s name was I leaning into the man’s touch instead of pulling away from it? Why did I want to press my head against his stomach and wrap my arms around him and beg him to do the same to me? Why did I want him to promise he’d help me find the child who was the only bright spot in my life? Who trusted me to take care of her and love her and keep her safe?

“It will be okay, Ben.”

It took a good fifteen seconds for his words to register… well, one word in particular. I made myself pull back so his calloused thumb was no longer tracing the path of my silent tears. “How do you know my name?” I asked as I shifted farther back on the bed. Something else registered in that moment too, and I felt fear skate up my spine. “You said take me back to the hospital… how do you know I was in the hospital?” I tried to move even farther away from him, but my pained body wasn’t having it. When the man suddenly reached for me, I managed to jerk away, but it cost me. I cried out in pain at the same time that I spilled the bottle of water all over myself.

The man put his hands up. The whole thing was almost comical because he physically outmatched me in just about every way possible, and he was acting like me and my nearly empty bottle of water could take him. He was several inches taller than me and probably weighed a good forty or fifty pounds more. Muscles bulged beneath the sleeves of his long-sleeved white Henley. He was broad-chested and his light brown hair was closely cropped in what looked like a military-style cut. His ocean-blue eyes were fringed with dark lashes and there was just a hint of laugh lines crinkling the corners of his eyes, though I guessed it was his age rather than a sense of humor that had played into that little physical detail. My gut was telling me he wasn’t much of a laugher.

“You told me your name,” the man said.

I went to deny that because ever since Georgie had been taken, I’d been careful not to tell anyone anything. That had been part of the instructions her kidnappers had given, but with my head spinning like it was and my not remembering much about the events of the evening, I had to assume the hospital had managed to get some heavy-duty painkillers into me at some point without me realizing it.

“And the hospital?” I asked.

The man slowly knelt on the ground next to the bed and then very carefully reached toward me. It was all I could do not to pull away. I half expected him to touch my face again, maybe even welcomed the idea a little, but he went for my shirt collar instead.

“You left this on,” he said as he gave something beneath my collar a tug. I looked down and saw his tanned fingers touching a thin layer of fabric beneath my shirt.

My hospital gown.

I’d forgotten that I hadn’t been able to get the thing off since I’d been in such a hurry to get out of the room before a nurse or doctor came back. So I’d just tugged my clothes on over it. Fortunately, my shirt had been the button-up kind so I’d been able to get that on without too much trouble, though I had to wonder if such a thing would have been possible if I hadn’t been on the painkillers.

The man removed his hand, taking the bottle of water from my lax one in the process. He handed me a second full bottle and removed the cap for me. “Drink some more,” he said, once again in that weird tone that wasn’t quite an order but wasn’t really a request either. My head had finally stopped spinning and my stomach felt a little better so I did as he said.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

I saw something flash in his eyes but wasn’t sure what it was. My eyes skittered to his hands when he absentmindedly began tugging at his shirt sleeves as if trying to pull them down farther. It was an odd gesture, but I figured everyone had their weird little quirks so I did my best to ignore it.

“Reese,” he finally said. He seemed to wait for something after telling me his name, but I wasn’t sure what.

“Reese,” I murmured. I knew I needed to thank him for helping me, though in truth, I wasn’t sure what exactly he’d helped me with. I closed my eyes as I tried to pull up the events of whatever had happened between me leaving the hospital and waking up in the motel room.

I took another sip of the water before meeting his eyes. The “thank you” I’d been about to say died on my lips when I saw him studying me. I could tell just by the way he was looking at me that he wanted to ask what had happened to me.

“Mugged,” I lied before he could even ask.

Reese barked out a laugh but it wasn’t a real one, and I didn’t like how it sounded on him. “Nice try.”

My jaw tightened. “What difference does it make? I got hurt, I went to the hospital. End of story.”

He pursed his lips in thought. “Okay, so let me take you home. Where do you live?”

“Washington, DC,” I lied.

Another chuckle and still a fake one. This guy was starting to tick me off. And I absolutely did not care what he would sound like when he laughed for real. Nope, I did not.

“You’re not from DC,” he insisted.

“I am.”

“Fine, what’s in the center of Dupont Circle?”

Fuck. Smart-ass.

“A statue fountain thing,” I guessed. Wasn’t there always a fountain in the middle of a circle in big cities?

“No. It’s a replica of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris.”

“Shit,” I muttered, looking down at my hands in my lap. “Fucking Frenchmen.”

“Are you kidding?” Reese asked. “It is a statue fountain thing. But clearly that was just a good guess. Why are you lying to me?”

My head had begun pounding again and the pain in my side was throbbing along to the same rhythm. The man had a point. Why was I lying to him? It wasn’t like him knowing I was from Atlanta was going to reveal state secrets. I needed him to realize I was a boring tourist so he’d leave me here and I could get on with my search for Georgie. “I’m from Atlanta. Look, can we not do this twenty questions bullshit? Just leave me here. I’ll pay for the hotel room. You don’t have to stay and babysit me.”

Reese’s eyes shifted from where I clutched my side up to my face. “You’re in pain.” His hand came up to feel my forehead, and I winced at the movement. “I’m not going to hurt you, Ben,” he said, slowing his approach and gently sliding his dry hand across what was surely clammy skin.

“I…” I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my chest at his touch.

“I can help you,” he added, his voice becoming impossibly soft as his fingers once again lingered on my face. Despite the pain, my body reacted in a most inconvenient way. My breath caught in my lungs but not because of any tenderness in my ribs.

No, this was an altogether different kind of discomfort.

Ask him, my inner voice whispered desperately. Ask him to help you find her.

I shook my head in response.

I couldn’t trust this man. Even if by some miracle I could, if the men who’d taken Georgie found out, they’d kill her. No, I’d get her back and then I’d take her someplace where no one could ever get to her again. She’d be safe and happy and—

“Oh my god, Duckie,” I said in a rush. “Where’s Duckie?”

“What?” Reese asked, clearly startled. I made a move to search my right pocket, triggering the pain in my side again and nearly causing me to pass out.

“Easy,” Reese murmured, as he caught my wrist to keep me from moving my arm.

“No! I need to check my pocket to see if Duckie is there!”

“Duckie? What is that?”

“Her blanket!” I nearly shouted as if his question had been an unreasonable one. “She’ll need it when I find her!” I didn’t even think to censor my words, my desperation was that fierce.

When I tried to get to my pocket again, Reese held me firmly.

“Ok, wait. Let’s get you straightened out on the bed, and I’ll help you.”

I closed my eyes against the humiliation of having to be helped like this. Reese’s hands were gentle but firm as he guided me down from the headboard to a position flat on my back with my head on a pillow. He put a second pillow against my hurt side.

“Here, hold it with your arm. That should help.” He spoke softly while he maneuvered me, his gentle tone reassuring me it was all business and he was only there to help make me more comfortable.

Until it was time for him to reach into my pocket.

He glanced up at me, and I noticed a pink tinge on his cheeks. Was he blushing?

“Go ahead,” I said, trying to keep the utter desperation out of my voice. My reaction to having potentially lost Georgie’s security blanket, which wasn’t really even a blanket, was over the top. I knew that. But it didn’t change anything. So instead of just telling him the truth, I began babbling. “I can’t get it myself anyway. These jeans are too tight on the best of days. Even if I could reach it, my hand is too scraped up to fit.”

Great, now we were both awkward as hell.

“So…” Reese coughed. “So I’m just going to reach into your pocket and get your…Duckie.”

“Mm-hm.” I looked away, noticing a gold picture frame on the side wall next to the bed. The painting inside was of a palm frond. That was good. I could concentrate on the palm frond while he… searched.

“Going in now,” he said with a rough voice. I glanced back at him and noticed his hands shaking. Was he afraid this was somehow going to make him gay or something? What was his problem?

“It’s fine,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m not modest. Just please check, Reese.”

His eyes came up to mine in surprise. The blush was deeper than before and his pupils were large. “Yes, I am. I’m checking.”

Reese’s top teeth bit into his bottom lip as his finger and thumb approached my pocket like he was expecting a spider inside.

Oh fuck, not now, I mentally whispered to my suddenly unruly body as it reacted to the gorgeous man as his finger grazed my hip.

Steady on, Benjamin. Do not do this now.

“Never mind,” I squeaked. “I’ll do it.”

Reese’s brow furrowed. “No, I can do it. It’s fine.”

“Oh Jesus,” I whispered beneath my breath as Reese began digging around in my pocket.

“Did you say something?” Reese asked as he paused briefly.

“No,” I practically barked. God, was the man digging for oil or something? It wasn’t like Duckie was the size of a—

“Got it,” Reese said as his hand snaked out of my pants. I nearly cried at the sight of the scrap of soft yellow flannel in his hands. A whoosh of air left my lungs so quickly that I was sure I would pass out. Reese was tucking the material into the fingers of my injured hand before I could even reach for Duckie.

“Thank you,” I breathed, though I wasn’t sure who I was thanking exactly.

“You should take off your pants.”

I turned my head just in time to see Reese’s face go even pinker as he realized what he’d blurted out.

“You smell… I mean they smell. Your jeans smell… and they’re wet… from the, ah, water,” Reese stammered as he motioned to the empty bottle of water on the nightstand.

“I smell?” I asked. It wasn’t until that moment that I did notice the lingering stench of garbage.

“No! You smell okay,” Reese quickly said. “Good, actually. You smell really good.” His bright eyes went wide as he realized what he’d said, and as I held Duckie to my chest, I actually found myself smiling.

“I do?” I asked.

“Christ,” Reese whispered, more to himself than me. His awkwardness was the cutest thing I’d seen in a long time. Even if it was just an embarrassed straight-guy reaction, I still found myself entranced by it.

Then I took another whiff of myself. He was right. I did smell.

As badly as I needed to get moving, I instinctively knew Reese wouldn’t let me go. But if I showed Reese I was just going to rest, maybe he’d leave and then I could get out of there and resume the search for Georgie.

“Undo my pants,” I blurted. “I’ll take them off.”

Reese actually looked startled by my request.

Startled but not horrified.

“Oh… okay,” he said, gingerly reaching for the button on my jeans.

No woody. No woody. Imagine blowing a xenomorph to bits in the Aliens arcade game you love so much.

Reese held his breath as he flicked the button open and slowly lowered the zipper. I squeezed my arm against the pillow until a dull ache in my ribs got my attention enough to calm my dick down.

“There. Done,” Reese said, sucking in a breath.

I looked at my open jeans still spray-painted onto my legs. “Uh, could you pull them off, please? I’m afraid if I try to—”

He grunted and held his hand up before reaching for the sides of my jeans and working them down my legs.

It wasn’t easy. Had they been in the Wizard of Oz movie, they’d have needed a can of oil.

“Why is it called a Duckie?” he suddenly asked. Did he actually sound out of breath?

“What?” I looked down just as he began pulling the pants down my thighs. His eyes seemed to linger on my underwear but then quickly dropped, and I nearly groaned out loud when his fingertips skimmed my skin. Jesus, if I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought he was doing it on purpose.

“The thing,” he said as he motioned with his chin to Duckie. “It’s got dogs on it.”

The comment actually helped slow my libido. “Um, long story,” I said, hoping he’d get the silent message.

He did.

“Thanks,” I breathed when the pants cleared my ankles. I made a point of not looking at the bright fuchsia briefs I’d forgotten I was wearing. The tiny ones that fit under the skinny jeans.

As my bare legs were uncovered, Reese’s entire body seemed to tense and his breathing changed. There was a noticeable bulge in the front of his pants, and when I saw it, my eyes snapped up to his. And his were closed.

Was the sight of my naked skin turning him on? I had to look like chopped liver right about now. How in the world could anyone find me attractive?

“Reese?” I asked carefully just as the pants popped off my feet.

He grunted again, snatched up the jeans, and raced toward the bathroom, slamming the door with a bang.

I blinked at the closed door. What the hell had just happened?

I took in the sight of the hotel room and suddenly realized I was alone enough to attempt an escape.

Except now I was in my underwear.